


family is (what you make of it)

by ttamarrindo



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Family, Gen, Growing Up, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Step-Brothers, kid!jae, kid!wonpil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 22:54:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13913886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttamarrindo/pseuds/ttamarrindo
Summary: fam·i·ly (noun) - a group consisting of parents and children living together in a household.(or, jae and wonpil grow up as stepbrothers and learn that when it comes to family, the dictionary falls a bit short // told in big-small moments.)





	family is (what you make of it)

**Author's Note:**

> hihi i didn't have the time to post anything for jhp week /cries/ but have this?? mess?? tags will be updated as i go! the pairings + the main storyline are already set but i won't tag yet until they become relevant so people won't get confused ^^ 
> 
> based on the [100 theme challenge!](http://30daychallengearchive.tumblr.com/post/36506942591/100-theme-challenge)

**i. beginnings**

the boy standing in front of him is a little bit shy, a little bit hesitant. his mother smiles at him kindly and jae can only scowl further. the boy is wearing a big, blue sweater that ends somewhere above his knees and he can’t seem to stop picking at the hem, already frayed at the edges. he’s got a bright smile on his face, too and it makes his eyes scrunch up, his cheeks push up. he’s cute. 

already, jae can’t help but hate him. 

“go say hi.” his mother pushes him lightly on the back but jae, just turned seven and feeling anger like he has never felt before, stubbornly digs his heels in stays rooted to the spot. “go on,” his mother says. then, in a more insistent english, “jae, be nice.” 

jae huffs. he doesn’t _want_ to be nice. just like he doesn’t want a little brother. but his mother shoots him a look, one that jae knows by now means either no tv or no comics - worse even, both - so he grits his teeth and takes the one, two, three, four steps standing between himself and his new bother, his new home, and offers a cold (as he can) and bland (as his mother will let him) - “hi.”

the boy shuffles on his feet, peeks up through brown bangs at his father, who stands next to him and pats him reassuringly on the back, before he inches forward and takes the hand jae extends to him like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. (to be fair, neither does jae, but he’s seen grown-ups greet each other like this and he’s seven now, and that’s older than the six he was a few weeks ago, so he figures he should too). 

“hullo,” the boy says - his brother, jae thinks, and tries not to wrench his hand away. “i’m wonpil.” 

it’s a stupid name. it sounds weird. jae doesn’t think he can pronounce it. he’s opening his mouth to tell wonpil just so when his mother, ever knowing, rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes - a warning. 

“aren’t you happy, sweetheart?” she asks. “you have a little brother now, you won’t be lonely anymore. nice, isn’t it?” 

jae scowls, scratches at the crack in the pavement with the top of his beat-up converse and mumbles out a resigned, “i guess.” 

wonpil’s father laughs at that, smiles reassuringly at his mother. “they’ll get along just fine,” he says and his voice is light and soft and nothing like jae’s own father used to be, before the big fight and all the big lawyers and their big words came knocking and messed it all up. “they’re going to be as thick as thieves in no time, you’ll see.”

jae’s willing to bet they won’t. wonpil has a stupid name which probably means he's stupid, too. and he’s also younger. just five. jae’s seven now and that means that wonpil, for him, is just a baby. jae doesn’t like babies. they always cry a lot. 

as his mother ushers him inside, jae catches wonpil’s eyes. his new brother smiles. jae turns away. 

 

**ii. departed**

korea is weird. jae doesn’t like it. he has to bow a lot and the shows on tv aren’t the same as they were back home. here, everyone speaks fast - too fast - and more often than not jae can’t understand what they’re saying. mom tells him he’ll get used to it in no time, says to have patience, but with every word jae mispronounces at dinner and every giggle wonpil lets out from his seat at the other end of the table at his ‘funny speaking’ jae’s frustration just grows and fester like an ugly wound. it’s awful, and jae’s never had much patience to speak of in the first place.

he misses LA, too. misses the sun and misses his friends and his house. before, he had a room all to himself. it was big and blue and had all of his stuff in it - his cds and his skateboard and his posters. now, he has to share with wonpil, who leaves his many stuffed animals all over the room and insists jae play pretend with him. now, jae can’t skate in the house because wonpil’s father says it’s dangerous, which is stupid. jae’s only ever broken one (1) flower vase and it wasn’t even his fault anyways. jae even misses _english_ , something he didn’t even know he could miss, because his mother insists he talk in korean at home so that it’ll be easier once summer ends and he goes back to his (new) school. 

and it’s not fair, he thinks, that he was the one that had to move, the one they took away from home. why couldn’t wonpil and his father come live with them in california? it’s better there anyways. jae doesn’t understand.

when he asks his mother, she just pats him on the head, a little bit exasperated, a little bit sad, and tells him, “it’s better for us here. it’s like a fresh start. clean slate, start over.” 

it’s shit, is what it is, but his mother scowls something fierce when jae says it aloud and chides him for his language. she also reminds him sharply to speak in korean. jae doesn’t know any korean curse words yet, though, so he keeps his mouth shut and listens.

 

**iii. break**

“i _hate_ you!”

wonpil is crying, jae can hear him hiccuping and getting all choked up, but right now all jae can focus is on his spiderman comic, the one that’s lying on their bedroom floor with its spin broken and its ripped pages scattered all around. 

“you’re so stupid,” jae screams. he’s shaking now and wonpil just keeps on crying, but jae’s so angry - he can’t stop. “i told you! i told you not to touch it and now it’s all ruined!”

the sound of the door slamming open. then - “what is _going on_.”

jae falters, mouth clicking shut when he sees wonpil’s father standing at the threshold. there’s a moment of quiet, a tense silence where all jae can do is shuffle on his feet, and then wonpil starts crying in earnest.

jae can’t understand much of what he’s saying, all jumbled out as it is, but he catches enough words like mean and shouting and scared to know he’s in big trouble. 

with his mother at work, it’s up to wonpil’s father to scold him. “jaehyung,” he says, and frowns his way. jae flinches. “a word.” 

“i-” 

“now,” the man cuts him off before jae can even start to protest. “please.” 

he takes jae out to the porch. the kim’s home (not jae’s. not yet) overlooks a quiet street in a quiet neighborhood in the quietest part of the city boundaries. it’s nothing like jae’s old apartment complex back in california, which was near a park and right in the middle of a bustling street always full of everywhere people. there was an ice cream shop a couple of blocks away, and an arcade even further down. 

here, jae sits on the wooden steps of the house and watches with a scowl as the old lady across the street hangs her clothes up from the clothesline in her front yard and their next door neighbor walks her dog under the stifling summer heat.

“can you tell me what happened, kid?” woojung asks. he’s told jae many times he’s free to call him dad, if he wants. but jae’s real dad is back in america. where exactly, jae doesn’t know, but he got a card from him as a (late) birthday present and it had a picture of the grand canyon on it so jae figures he’s somewhere around. 

huffing, jae can’t help but ask, “are you gonna ground me?”

“do you think you deserve it?” woojung asks back, and he sounds amused. 

“i didn’t - i mean,” jae falters, sighs. “i made wonpil cry.” 

“you did,” woojung agrees with a careful nod of his head. “but wonpil also broke your comic book, didn’t he?” 

“yes!” jae shouts, getting mad just thinking about it. he stomps his right foot down with a huff. “i told him he couldn’t touch it, but he did! and now it’s just ruined and,” he stutters, feels the knot in his throat pull tighter and tighter still. “- and it’s not like i can get another one here ‘cause - ‘cause it was in _english_ and it was a special edition my dad got me before he left and i - i can’t -” 

jae doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels woojung rubbing at his back, trying to calm down the broken sobs rattling their way through jae’s body. it’s too much, jae thinks. he misses home, and it’s not _fair_. his mother didn’t even ask him if he wanted to move to ilsan, she just - took him away.

“it’s okay,” woojung murmurs, quiet and soft. “it’s okay, kid. you’re okay, i got you.” 

and jae thinks it’s strange, how easy he finds it to bury his face in the man’s chest and hide from the world, how easy it is to curl his hand on woojungs’ shirt and let himself believe, if only for a moment, that the man’s right. believe he’s really gonna be okay. 

“i’m sorry,” jae chokes out after his breathing has calmed down. “i shouldn’t have yelled at wonpil. it was mean. it’s - it’s fine if you wanna ground me. i guess i deserve it.”

“tell you what,” woojung hums, carefully pulling away so he can look at jae in the eye when he says, “why don’t you go apologize to your brother and then we can all go out for ice cream, mh? would you like that?” 

“i - for real? the three of us?” jae blinks wide-eyed at the man. “you’re not - you’re not gonna ground me?”

“well, still i have to tell your mother about what happened and she has the right to punish you if she thinks it’s necessary,,” he says and jae grimaces, knows that’ll probably be the case. “but, between you and me,” woojung leans down to whisper conspiratorially, “i think i can convince her to go easy on you.”

“will you really?” jae asks, taken aback by the man’s kindness. admittedly, jae doesn’t known him all that well. he knows his mother met him through work stuff - translating things for something called an embassy (his mother has explained to him what an embassy is many times now but jae doesn’t really get it yet) and he knew they saw each other often when woojung came to california. he met him a couple of times before jae came to korea, but those were few and far between. jae hadn't figured out they liked each other _that way_ until after his father was gone. 

“of course,” woojung smiles, “if you want.”

“thanks.” jae rubs at his red eyes with the heel of his hand, feel his ears go red as the beginnings of embarrassment creep on him. he cried. like a _baby_. 

“don’t thank me, kid. you’re my son too, now.” with one last grin and a pat on his shoulder, woojung rises up to his feet and helps jae up himself. “now go apologise. wonpilie thinks you hate him now.”

“i don’t hate him,” jae is quick to say and startles when he finds he actually means it. wonpil is annoying, and jae still stands by it that he has a stupid name, but he kind of gets it know. he didn't like making wonpil cry and he feels guilty enough about it to swallow down his pride and shuffle into their shared bedroom, where wonpil sits on the floor by the foot of jae’s bed.

“hey, wonpil-ah,” he starts and wonpil’s head shoots up at the sound. his eyes are red and puffy, but there’s a determined slat to his mouth that seems a bit too serious for a five-year-old. 

“here,” wonpil says before jae can start on his apology, clambering up to his feet and holding out something for jae to take. “i’m sorry. but i fixed it. don’t be mad.” 

it’s his comic book, jae realizes, now haphazardly kept together by long strips of scotch tape. it’s messy and the pages are pasted in the wrong order but it’s - an effort. it’s something and jae unconsciously brings it closer to his chest. 

“thanks, wonpilie,” he says, and if it’s a bit stuttered, then wonpil is either too busy beaming or too young to notice. “‘m sorry i yelled at you earlier.” 

“it’s okay,” wonpil shakes his head. then, tentatively, reaches out for jae’s hand. and jae - lets him, squeezes it once as he says, “let’s go, your dad promised to buy us ice cream if we made up.”

“okay!” wonpil smiles brighter, hurrying away to put on his shoes. jae follows, crouches down when he sees wonpil struggling to tie the knot on his laces and does it for him. 

“hey,” jae says before he can stop himself. wonpil looks up, brow eyes wide and curious as jae swallows hard around the lump in his throat and tries to find the right words. “you know can, you can call me hyung right? i’m your big brother now. i’ll take care of you.”

wonpil blinks, then he smiles brightly, big and gap-toothed, and says, “i’ll take care of hyung, too!” straightening up just as his father reaches the hallway they’re lingering around. 

“you two ready to go?” he asks, eyebrows raised and smile soft as he looks down at them both with obvious fondness. 

“yeah,” jae answers, reaching out for wonpil’s hand just as woojung opens the door. “ready.” 

 

**iv. dark**

a quiet mumble in the darkness - “hyung?”

“wha’issit?” words tumbling together, jae turns in his bed to face the other way. he squints, barely manages to make out wonpil sitting up on the edge of his bed, blanket wrapped tight around himself.

“hyung, i’m scared.” 

“got to sleep, wonpilie,” jae mumbles back, too tired to see the stress lined around wonpil’s shoulders. it’s too late for wonpil to be up anyways. “mom’ll get mad.”

“but hyung i - i had a nightmare,” wonpil stutters out and he sounds small and lost and oddly vulnerable in the bleakness of their room. not even his star-shaped night-light can cut through the dark stealing in through their window. “can i sleep with you for a bit? please, i promise i won’t bother.” 

“ugh,” jae grunts, squashing his pillow so he can get comfortable again. “fine - come here.” 

his voice comes out somewhat muffled with the way jae’s got his face pressed down against his pillow, but wonpil clearly understands because he's up and across the room in less than a second, clambering underneath the covers when jae hold them up for him to slip in. 

he curls himself around jae, cold feet pressing up to jae’s claves. jae sighs, realizes that _for a bit_ was most likely just a blatant lie. he feels wonpil fingers come up to latch on the edge of his nightshirt, hears him huff out a tired breath and yawn wide, and settles for tucking wonpil’s head underneath his chin. 

“let’s sleep now,” jae tells him, now yawning too, and pats at the younger’s back absentmindedly to calm what’s left of the nervousness the younger’s nightmares brought with.

“okay,” wonpil mumbles, face pressed against jae’s chest. it’s uncomfortable; wonpil’s elbow is digging into his ribs and his hair is tickling his nose, making him want to sneeze, but wonpil seems better now, less frightened, so jae figures one night can’t hurt that much. 

 

**v. wrong**

“you’re saying it wrong!” a laugh. “it’s _let’s get it_ \- let’s get it! let’s. not let.”

nose scrunching up in frustration, wonpil mumbles out a defeated, “english is hard,” and slumps down on his bed. jae pushes at his shoulder, smiles wides and retaliates, “well, korean’s harder so try again. with feeling this time, yeah?”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys like the start! if you have any questions feel free to ask me! [+tumblr](https://jahehyung.tumblr.com/) / [+cc](https://curiouscat.me/ttamarrindo) thank you for reading!


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